Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 195: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

P SPRING-HEEL D JACK: Dome to-night? There’s been such a jolly lark. 1’]] tell you all about it.” | Jack recognised the voice of Joey the Sweeper, but not wishing the lad to again know him, he - hurriedly slipped on his mask. “ Such a jolly lark,” continued the boy, spring- ing up from the ground and clasping his arms and legs round a lamp-post, in close contiguity to the old woman’s apple-stall, and taking up his position evidently there, while he intended to tell his story. ‘ Hould yer tongue, yer noisy spalpeen!” cried the old lady, ‘till I’ve served his hononr ; for sure it’s one of my best customers he’s going to be. How many will ye take, sir? Sure an’ they’re as swate as sugar, and will melt in ye mouth without biting.” “ All the lot,” said Jack, turning quickly, and placing his foot under the board gave it a sudden tilt, which sent it off the basket, and a!l the apples rolling over the pavement into the gutter. “ Och! blue murther and botheration! ” cried the old dame, springing to her feet. ‘The devil seize ye! Och! be jabez! it’s the gintleman hisself !” : The old woman, who had sprung forward, suddenly paused, holding up her hands in sur- prise and horror, as she caught sight of the mask of Jack, on which the rays from the lamp streamed fully, and who, with one hand on his hip, stood pointing down upon the-wreck of her stall, while the boy, with wide open mouth and eyes clung tenaciously to the lamp-post, to save himself from falling. “Oh, gemini!” he gasped out, recovering himself. ‘‘ It’s Spring-heeled Jack !” A portion of the old woman’s terror subsided on the instant. “Och! the blackguard, murthering villain!” she cried. ‘‘ And it’s yerself and not the devil at all, at all! What have you served a poor lone widow, without a husband, like this for, ye spalpeen ?”’ “Only to make good for trade, Mother Mokes,” said Jack, with a laugh. ‘© Sure an’ it’s the ruin of the poor old woman you'll be, and may the devil fly away wid ye, you thaving robber! Bad luck to yer ugly mug, ye decateful deceiver ! ” Don’t leave off yet, Mother Mokes,” said Jack. “ There’s something so angelic about your voice when you are angry.’ “ Anory, isit?” cried the woman. “ Bedad! but it’s tear your ugly eyes out of yer head I could ; it’s a dirty spalpeen ye are! and it’s me- self that tells ye that same!” “ Much obliged to you,” said Jack. « Sure an’ it’s not much obliged I am to you, ye mane, deceitful spalpeen! An’ I took ye to a gintleman; bad luck tome! Och! sure an’ it’s ruined Iam quite! ye wretch! ye villain! ye monster! ye fiend! ye black devil!”’ “ Well, Mother Mokes,” said Jack, “ I think by now you've had your say, and I'll begin.” “ Go to the devil wid ye!” cried the woman, stooping to pick up the board. “Tn another moment you'll fall to blessing me, instead of cursing me,” said Jack, placing his hand in his pocket. Se a TINTS TONS THE TERROR OF LONDON. “Sorry a bit, ye dirty spalpeen! It’s meself that will curse ye till ye die! Sorry a blessing yed get from me. Id like to see your neck stretched, ye black-hearted thief! ”’ “* Not when you turn the mangle again, Biddy,” said Jack. ‘‘ Here—at your time of life the streets is not a place to get a living—that will pay you for the damage, and set you up again in your old trade. Now, curse away Biddy as much as you like ; only don’t give way to drink, and again ruin your prospects.”’ He threw down several golden coins upon the board which she had again placed on the basket, and turned away. : For a moment the woman gazed at them in surprise, then hurriedly gathered them up and placed them to her teeth, while Joey dropped from the lamp-post, exclaiming— “ Oh, gemini! MHere’s a lark—hurrah!” “And did I curse the gentleman?” cried Biddy, looking after Jack’s retreating form. “The devil take me for doing so, for sure didn’t I know he was a real gentleman? May yer honour live for a thousand years, and yer swate face never grow mouldy. May ye havea slathering wake, and meself be present. Och ! it’s a gentle- man ye are; and may the devil fly away with the spalpeen as says ye ain’t ! Good luck to ye— good luck to ye!” CHAPTER LXVIII. GOOD ACTS MEET WITH BAD REWARDS—THF BURGLARY DEFEATED. Tue loud summons of Jack speedily brought to one of the windows of the mansion a night- capped head, possessed by the old housekeeper, who had tremblingly leaped from her bed to learn the cause of the violent ringing of the gate- - bell at that unseasonable hour of the night, or rather morning. | As soon as Jack caught sight of the large fril at the window, he commenced to shout loudly— ““'Mhieves ! thieves ! ”’ ‘Oh, my gracious! oh, my goodness! What’s to be done?” cried the lady. ‘‘ The family are out of town, and there’s only Gilpin the gardener in the house. Oh! we shall all be murdered! Oh, dear !—oh, dear!” ‘“ Confound the stupid woman,’ muttered Jack. ‘She had better have held her tongue than revealed the absence of resistance to these villains.”’ At this moment a stone struck Jack on the shoulder, aimed by one of the men on the oppo- site side of the railings. — ‘Rouse the gardener, and have the dogs let loose,” cried Jack, ‘‘ while I go to seek assist- ance. The head disappeared from the window, and Jack, fearful of being injured by stones thrown by the burglars, hurried away down. the road as half-a-dozen missiles rattled on the iron gates. ‘““Tve got the worst of that at present,” said Jack, as he sped along. “‘ But never mind, if i cannot prevent the place being entered, and obtain my cloak, I may be able to set the officers of justice on the track of the rascals.” The report of a fire-arm caused him to pause ? 197 GSriG